


your pretty face and electric soul

by TripsH



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Established Relationship, Kind of angsty, M/M, i'm apparently very much in love with the idea of insecure junior high Oikawa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripsH/pseuds/TripsH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes those who were most insecure put on the biggest show… kind of like they were trying to prove that they were adequate, that they were all right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your pretty face and electric soul

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really into exploring the idea of insecure!Oikawa, so this kind of spiraled out of control from that. 
> 
> This is mostly me trying some stuff out with my writing style too. I usually write very linear fics with longer scenes and more dialogue, so I wanted to try out something that was more broken down and reflective. 
> 
> Title is from "Young and Beautiful" by Lana del Rey, and I mainly used it because I think it's a beautiful song lyric. But I do think it fits Oikawa's character so...

It wasn’t until after they had lost the match that he began to notice how much of a contradiction Oikawa was. When one truth was there, almost immediately after something was there to falsify it, to show how complex he really was.

(Fire itself was a contradiction, though. It could bring life, give light and warmth and safety, but it could also burn and hurt and absolutely decimate everything in its path. It was something so powerful that it could both give life and take life away.)

To most, Oikawa looked as if he was calm and confident and had the utmost amount of faith in himself. But Iwaizumi knew better, knew Oikawa well enough to understand how many insecurities and doubts he actually carried, and that it was those weights that had him struggling to move forward and held him down. Oikawa was someone who others counted on and had faith in, but it was becoming more and more obvious that Oikawa didn’t even count on or have faith in himself. 

(Paradoxes were more than just literary devices, or scientific theories, or the plot points of novels. Paradoxes could be people too. And their final year of junior high, it became more and more obvious that it was a fitting term for Oikawa.)   

…

Losing to Shiratorizawa time after time was frustrating enough, but it wasn’t until the end of their second year of junior high that the weight of it all truly began to affect Oikawa. That was when the pressure to get better and win truly set in, when the look in his eyes turned from good enough to not enough, and later from not enough to never enough.

“Why can’t we ever win?” Oikawa shouted, whipping a volleyball at the wall in frustration. It was after their last match of second year, a match they had lost to Shiratorizawa… again.

The anger and frustration after a loss were common. It was a pain to always come so close and then fall short. But the anger and frustration often turned to feelings of sadness and worthlessness later that required a lot more to fix than the initial reaction did.

(Fire could be fueled by violent and passionate feelings for a short period of time, but the losses always ended with flames waned by frustrated tears spilt onto calloused and worn palms. It was harder to keep struggling embers burning than it was to calm the brief flashes of violent flames.)

But it was worth it, and he’d do it.  No matter what it took, he’d keep Oikawa burning.

…

“I want to win,” Oikawa cried later that night, voice muffled, face pressed against Iwaizumi’s shoulder, tears warm as they splashed onto his skin. Oikawa’s grip was tight and desperate, like he never wanted to let go. “Just once… I want to win.”

And Iwaizumi curled his fingers in the Oikawa’s hair, his other hand rubbing Oikawa’s back. He was strong and stable and _there_ —a constant, a support—and nothing would change that. “Don’t let it get to you so much. We’ll win.”

It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

…

For a little while, he thought he had reached Oikawa, had calmed him enough to keep him from becoming destructive. And he had. Despite the frustration of losing, Oikawa was beginning to build himself up again, the embers slowly turning to bright and strong flames whose desire was to grow and grow once again. That was, until a new first year showed up and threw everything into disarray.

Kageyama Tobio was a prodigy, someone to be admired, the exact kind of person who could completely affect Oikawa without even trying.

(The whole situation resembled a volcanic eruption, really. Until then, Oikawa had been dormant, but slowly building to a point that could be dangerous. But Oikawa’s already tense feelings and frustrations after losing to Shiratorizawa again and again coupled with the appearance of a genius first year who could possibly overtake him were a lethal combination, a combination that could—would—impact Oikawa so deeply that an eruption was bound to happen. An eruption that would be violent and destructive and devastating to those involved.)

…

Pressure meant stress. Stress meant burdens. Burdens meant heavy weights on shoulders. Heavy weights on shoulders meant holding someone down and preventing them from reaching what they felt pressured about in the first place. It was an ironic cycle, really.

…

After Kageyama’s arrival, their steady and constant rhythm begun to change, calm and steady motions turning to wild and erratic ones.

Staying later after practice became a common occurrence. Five more minutes turned to ten. Ten to twenty. Twenty to an hour. The increased amount of time spent practicing was reflective of the increasing pressure, the more and more Oikawa pulled away from everyone else and went off on his own.

(Later, they never really acknowledged it, but it was almost an unspoken understanding that Iwaizumi would keep the keys to the clubroom in high school so it could never get to that point again.)

…

It was funny, really. Oikawa was admired by many, praised for his own skills and abilities, probably even envied. But here he was, unable to see his own worth and willing to ruin himself only to get better and stronger.

(Paradoxes made contradictions real, made them obvious, explained how they existed harmoniously within the same being—all parts of it true, but confusing and unexplainable as to how such opposing truths could exist in the same universe.) 

Volleyball had always been everything. Since they were kids, Oikawa had thrown himself into it, loved it, and practiced and practiced until he could reach the level he was currently at.

“It’s not enough,” Oikawa muttered when Iwaizumi brought it up. “If I don’t do something, I’ll never be able to keep up.”

Oikawa had always been prone to insecurities, Iwaizumi had seen it before. But this was different. Oikawa had never been so unreachable before, had never been so closed off and willing to break himself over the lack of worth he felt.

He felt like he was holding onto a thread stretched thin, one that could break in two at any instant and send them on separate paths.

…

Pain beneath the skin was just as dangerous as it was on the surface—sometimes even more so. Sometimes it hurt worse when scars weren't visible. Sometimes pain and stress inside all built up and ready to erupt was more dangerous than any wound from a knife could be. 

…

“Why aren’t I good enough?” Oikawa whispered so quietly that it was more of a breath than anything—like it was meant to be a thought only for him, but was spoken aloud by mistake.

“You are,” Iwaizumi muttered, tightening his grip around Oikawa’s waist as they lay together on the bed. “You are, but you just can’t see that.”

Oikawa turned to face him, eyes dark and downcast. “Don’t say that just to make me feel better, Iwa-chan. I—”

Iwaizumi kissed him, quick and hard, silencing the doubts that Oikawa brought forward. When he pulled back, Iwaizumi looked at him intently. “Tooru. You _are_.”

A simple kiss meant to shut him up turned to another and another.

And the rest of the night was spent with fingers splayed across each other's skin, limbs tangled together, and lips pressed against each other’s. Kisses to every inch of skin, kisses to overworked limbs and muscles, praise and reassurance whispered into the quiet room.

…

Most people didn’t notice the changes in Oikawa. To an extent, they did, but none really understood it. He supposed that only someone who knew and understood Oikawa as well as he did would be attuned to what was going on, and how it was a destructive force that would become uncontrollable and dangerous if allowed to keep building and building.

Oikawa still could put on an act for people, could still make it seem like he was in control and confident and perfectly able of pulling a team together and leading them.

(Sometimes those who were most insecure put on the biggest show… kind of like they were trying to prove that they were adequate, that they were _all right_.)

…

The eruption happened after a practice match where none of their teammates could meet Oikawa’s fast and furious and desperate pace and he’d been switched out in favor of Kageyama. It was crushing and painful, Iwaizumi was sure, and probably sent the completely wrong message to Oikawa, who likely thought that his fears of being replaced and surpassed were coming true.

And after the match, when Oikawa had stayed back to practice extra again and Iwaizumi had caught him actually going to hit Kageyama, he knew that this couldn’t be allowed to go on any longer.  

(Fire left unattended was scary. It became wild and uncontrollable quickly. But all it took to bring it back under control was someone willing to brave the flames and work at it. And so he reached out.)

… 

Instead of crumbling under his hot gaze, instead of melting to malleable putty in his hands, Iwaizumi was stable and strong and more than willing to knock sense into Oikawa. Most let Oikawa do as he pleased, let his smile and beautiful eyes turn them to ash beneath his gaze. But Iwaizumi wouldn’t be one of those people. Because if there was no one to reign Oikawa in, he would become a destructive force to himself and everyone around him.

And it had gone too far already, so he’d stopped Oikawa from doing something stupid and finally told it to him straight and made him listen. Hoping this way of being would blow over was stupid in the first place, and it was time to take the matter into his own hands.

… 

 _“All of a sudden, I feel invincible_. _”_

Hearing those words from Oikawa after he had listened and Iwaizumi literally knocked sense into him was the biggest relief. He had feared that despite what he said, Oikawa could have been too far gone to listen to any of it. An untouchable king.

“Don’t act like that anymore, dumbass. You’re strong and just as talented, and it’s not worth it to ruin yourself over all of this.”

“Well, why didn’t you say that sooner, Iwa-chan?” There was a playful lilt in his voice and light in his eyes.

Iwaizumi punched his shoulder. “I’ve been telling you that since this started, idiot!”

“OW! I know! I know! I’m kidding, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa smiled and it was genuine and real and perfect. “Thank you, though… for everything.”

He flicked the brunet’s forehead before resting his own against it. “About time you thanked me for putting up with your crap,” was what he said, but what he meant was something like “I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll keep making sure you don’t get to a state like that again.”

Oikawa laughed and wrapped his arms around his neck, catching the words he didn’t have to say. Like always. “Okay, okay. But next time, we’re gonna win, right?”

Iwaizumi sighed. “You’re such a pain. But yeah, next time, we’ll win.”

Because together, nothing was impossible. 


End file.
